A different Luke

"What's happening to him?" Elena asked, her voice filled with fear. "Is he going to be okay?"

Arthur watched the scene, his face impassive. "He will be fine," he said, though he wasn't entirely sure.

"The wraith level is low compared to that of Luke; the probability of the possession process is tiny. It might even fail entirely. Hence the reason he told Luke not to resist, coupled with the fact that he is just working with assumptions and deductions from the knowledge he had been able to gather so far."

Truth be told, Arthur really didn't know how the end result would be. He had taken a few measures to ascertain the best outcome, which, in turn, cost him many essence points.

Slowly but surely, Luke's writhing and spasming came to an end, leaving Luke in a dead man state as he remained motionless on the ground for a good while. When everyone thought he was dead, his eyes sprang open, and a sudden chill descended in the room.

It was as if they were in the presence of a fierce predator, it became more apparent when they saw Luke's eyes as he stood back on his feet. His eyes were completely black, with tiny black veins spreading out from underneath his eyelids down to his cheekbone.

"Luke," Elena called out cautiously to Luke, who was observing his body as if he were in a strange body, "are you alright?"

Luke stopped to look at Elena, then Damon, before his eyes landed on the carefree, emotionless Arthur by the side, unbothered by anything as he watched on. He too was observing Luke like a great scientist or sculptor who had just made a great piece.

"Never been better, princess. Never been better," he replied with an evil grin that sent chills down everyone's spine.

Elena shivered when she heard Luke's words. His voice was the same, but there was something different about him. He no longer looked like the kind and gentle man they had known before. He was now something else entirely, something dark and dangerous.

"What happened to you?" Elena asked, her voice trembling. "What did the wraith do to you?"

Luke laughed, a harsh and grating sound. "It didn't do anything to me," he said. "It simply showed me the truth. It showed me that I was weak and naive, but not anymore."

Arthur came over and gave him a satisfied pat on the shoulder. "Running away from problems isn't the best solution but steadily preparing us for our own inevitable destruction. Facing it fearlessly and heartless makes us a monster, a monster in the eyes of all, but we get to keep the ones we care about."

This statement was more like a conviction to himself rather than to Luke. Meanwhile, outside, within the premise of the complex, things were chaotic. The ordinary-looking guards and maids Arthur had seen when he arrived were no longer ordinary.

Each of them now looked like veterans of war, clad in armor and fierce-looking weapons. Around the complex, there was a huge energy field, emanating from an external force of impact. Strong ripples coursed through the entire dorm, while the once ordinary-looking maids and guards now stood as veteran warriors, taking battle formation and preparing themselves for what could come next.

"Has anyone gone to inform the captain?" one of the elves, wielding a massive sword — a stark contrast to the typical weapons elves are known for using — asked his comrade by his side.

"He should be aware already, probably preparing to help the royals escape again as usual," his companion replied.

"It's quite unfortunate for the little princess, she hasn't even had time to live a normal life since she was born. I just hope I'll be selected to go with them once the preparation is done," a female elf chimed in from the side as she stuffed her quiver with as many arrows as it could hold.

Just then, a towering figure appeared within the ranks of the prepared army, a path instinctively forming for him with each step he took. A strong sense of dread overtook the entire army, and these warriors were not low-level ability users by any means. They felt as though the air around them was stiff, and one wrong move might be their last.

What made it even more alarming was the figure instigating this feeling — a figure they knew all too well but somehow felt different today. This figure was none other than Luke, followed by Arthur, Elena, and Damon.

No one could tear their eyes away from Luke until he reached the forefront of the formation, naturally taking the lead. While Arthur and the others stayed within the ranks, Luke's eyes were fixed on the ripples in the forcefield, lighting up the complex as if it were a festive period, with fireworks painting the sky. His expression was icy, with only one intent visible in his eyes — the desire to destroy everything.

Luke's changed expression petrified those surrounding him. They knew he was no longer the carefree young man they had known; he was now a determined warrior prepared to do whatever it took to achieve his goals. The elves around him were both terrified and awed, unsure of what to make of this sudden transformation in Luke. Some began to question if he was the same person they had been following all along.

Then, in a commanding voice, Luke spoke, his gaze unwavering on the forcefield. "Whatever you do, do not get in my way," he warned, setting the tone for what was to come.

This single command made it abundantly clear to everyone present that this battle would be unlike anything they had ever experienced before. Just as the forcefield began to give way, a single piloted fighter ship broke through before the forcefield could fully disperse.

*Boom!*

A powerful explosion echoed through the area, startling all who had witnessed the fighter ship breach the perimeter. In that split second from the ship's breakthrough to the explosion, all that could be seen was a purplish lightning striking it out of nowhere.

Tracing the arc of the lightning to its source, they were shocked silly to see it had come from their own captain.

"Come on, Rak, let's show these bastards what happens when they stick their hands in a wasp's nest," a low, angry growl went off inside Luke's head, resonating with his words. His eyes darkened once more, with veins spreading out.

Grabbing the two long spears he had strapped on his back, he struck them on the ground as a powerful burst of lightning energy enveloped them before spreading out. A pair of purplish shadow-like lightning wings formed on his back, and with a mini-sonic burst, he took to the air, charging toward the huge fleet of warships approaching.

Seeing the figure charging toward the fleet drawing closer, more than a dozen single-pilot battleship pods broke out from the main ship, charging toward the incoming figure. Meanwhile, on the ground level, many veteran elven warriors broke through the second level of the complex defense, charging toward the warriors' formation, with long-range attacks swirling through the air.

The attacks from both sides turned the place into ruins in a few minutes, with close combat and heavy-duty ability users putting the finishing touch on it, turning what looked like a natural paradise into a deserted wasteland.

But at that moment, people were more concerned with the intense battle that was claiming warriors on both sides in their numbers. All sorts of skills and martial arts were used and utilized to the fullest of each one's capability in an attempt to survive.

Up in the air, things weren't as the battleship warriors expected. Luke was like an unchained beast, breaking past their coordinated attacks, taking out the ships one after the other. His purplish lightning spear pierced through the ships' energy shields like a hot knife through butter, slicing ships in two or exploding them with an overload of lightning charge.

In no time, all battleships had met their end in Luke's hands, but his visage still yearned for battle, for blood, for chaos. He shifted his gaze to the battle raging below and, like a meteorite, shot down at the center of it, becoming the harbinger of death to all he came across.

At the far end of the battlefield, a few hooded figures stood still, watching everything unfold.

"This guy is pretty stronger than we were told," one of the hooded figures remarked, observing the havoc Luke was creating on the battlefield.

"He's a madman. Look how he charges into a fleet of battleships without caring for his own life," came the reply from the one the statement was directed to.

"I bet his armor has the phasing active skill. That's why he's so bold, because I noticed him evading a few attacks by allowing them to go through him," another chimed in.

"So, what do we do? Should we step in or just watch from the side?" the hooded lady asked the figure at the forefront.

"Let's just watch for now. I'm quite intrigued by this." A little, albeit evil chuckle escaped from within the hood of the figure.